CHAPTER 48
Quinn
Cole picks me up and my legs instinctively wrap around his waist, a startled laugh breaking into the kiss as plaster presses cool against my back.
His hands roam under my shirt, tugging it up, and I raise my arms, letting him strip it off.
My fingers find the hem of his shirt next, dragging it over his head, hungry for the heat of his skin against mine.
He carries me down the hall, floorboards groaning under his steps.
I cling to his shoulders, nails scraping lightly as he nudges my bedroom door open with his hip.
The mattress dips as he lowers me, his mouth blazing a path down my stomach, every kiss lower, every pause torment until I’m shaking with want.
My hands knot in his hair, torn between pulling him closer and holding on as his teeth graze just above the waistband of my shorts. I squeeze my thighs together, nerves spiking hard enough to almost jolt me out of the moment.
He feels it, tilts his face up. “Hey,” he says low, “I want all of you.”
“But—”
“Let me taste you. I can’t stop thinking about it,” he rasps against my thigh, voice thick with need.
“Okay,” I breathe, the word trembling out of me as I shove at my shorts, kicking them away. His hands slide the last of my clothes down, leaving me bare under his hungry gaze.
He draws me to the edge of the bed, drapes my legs over his shoulders, and the first drag of his tongue draws a sound up my throat I don’t even recognise.
My toes curl, and he groans like my taste is something he’s been starving for.
He savours every shift of my hips before circling my clit with devastating precision.
His tongue works me over, learning every reaction. He sucks lightly, then eases back, keeping me strung tight, desperate. When his fingers slide inside me, curling just right, his mouth seals over me in perfect rhythm and I cry out, clutching the sheets, thighs trembling against his shoulders.
The orgasm rips through me hard, white-hot, and he holds me steady. “You taste so good,” he praises. “You’re perfect.”
No one’s ever spoken to me like this, like I’m more than just a body.
He looks up, flushed, lips slick, pupils blown wide. “Tell me if you don’t want to go further.”
I pull him up into a kiss, tasting myself on his tongue. “I want you. Please.”
Clothes fall away between us, tossed carelessly to the floor until there’s nothing but skin and heat.
“Should we use protection?” he asks.
“It’s okay, I’m on the pill,” I say as I guide him to me, arching as he pushes in slow, stretching me open.
My gasp breaks against his mouth, overwhelmed by the fullness of him.
He stills, forehead pressed to mine, giving me time to adjust, then frames my face with his large hands.
He kisses me between shallow thrusts, every brush of his hips winding me tighter.
“Like this?” he murmurs.
“Yes. More,” I beg.
“You feel so fucking good.”
His rhythm builds, sweat slick between us, bodies sliding together.
He shifts, sliding a pillow under my hips and the new angle has me gasping, clutching at him as stars burst behind my eyes.
His thrusts grow rougher, his mouth finding my neck as one hand cups my breast, the other circling my clit until I’m writhing against him, caught between everything he’s giving me.
“You’re so sensitive,” he whispers, driving harder. “Every inch of you belongs to me right now.”
“Good,” I manage, back bowing off the mattress.
We move together, heat radiating off our bodies as his hips slam harder into mine, the headboard rattling with every thrust. I feel him swell inside me, his groans vibrating against my skin. My breath catches with every thrust, and I press my mouth against his shoulder to muffle my cries.
“Quinn—fuck—I can’t hold it—”
“Yes,” I gasp, tightening around him. “Let go.”
The world fractures. His release pulses hot inside me as I shatter around him one final time. He buries his face in my neck, groaning my name as if it’s the only word he knows.
We collapse, tangled and breathless with laughter, my head resting on his chest as we float back to earth.
The taste of salt lingers on my lips, the smell of him overwhelming. Every brush of his fingertips through my hair makes the moment feel bigger than it should.
“Sucks you’re leaving me for your trip,” I tease, tracing lazy circles on his chest with my fingertip. “Who’s going to keep me entertained while you’re gone?”
“Come with me,” he murmurs after a beat, his lips brushing against the crown of my head.
I shift, tilting my face toward him, “What?”
“My trip. Come with me. Just us.” His voice carries a quiet hope, softer now, like he’s afraid to break the fragile calm between us.
Every thought collides with the next until my head feels too full. I want to say yes, I want to fall, but the word lodges in my throat.
“I… I don’t know. That’s a long time, Cole.”
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, searching my expression for something I can’t give voice to. “Maybe it’s exactly what you need. To be away from everything.”
I let out a breath, then force a small laugh that falls flat. “You make it sound so easy. Like I can just pick up and go.”
“You can,” he says softly. “With me, you can. Trust me.”
I bite my lip, eyes darting anywhere but his. “Why do you even want me to go with you?”
The question hangs between us. My chest tightens, fear clawing up my ribs, louder than the thrum of want, louder even than the steady beat of his heart against my chest.
“Because I want you there. Because you make everything lighter.” He pauses, then adds, softer, “Because when I picture being away, I can’t stand the thought of being anywhere without you.”
“Cole…”
His voice is rougher now, as if dragged straight from his chest. “Because I love you.”